


We Don't Need You

by Colubrina



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:58:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22960891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Colubrina/pseuds/Colubrina
Summary: Albus Dumbledore shows up on Petunia Dursley's doorstep with a baby, a couple of Aurors, and Severus Snape in tow.  Harry needs the home blood relatives to be safe, but, to be clear, that does not include Vernon.
Comments: 42
Kudos: 144





	We Don't Need You

When Petunia Dursley opened the door that bright and cheerful morning, she expected to find a salesman she could order away. There was a lot of pleasure to be had in telling people to go away and she’d already had a bit of a spat with her husband about lawn care this morning. She welcomed the chance to let a little of her ire out on whatever fool had come up to her door at 9AM dressed like someone who’d fallen into a charity shop and decided he’d take something from each rack.

“Good morning, Petunia.” 

It was not a salesman.

Albus Dumbledore – who she recognized from her sister’s cursed frog cards – came bustling in past her, a baby in his arms. He walked right into her parlour without so much as a by-your-leave, and three men in black she hadn’t noticed earlier came in behind him. One, she was most upset to see, was the greasy boy her sister had fallen in with right before she’d gone to that… that… that magic school.

Petunia always twisted ‘magic’ into a curse inside her head.

This entire situation was outrageous. How dare this Dumebldore person march into her house and bring Severus Snape alone with him. “Now see here,” she began, but he raised a finger to his lips and, shocked, she fell silent. 

“Don’t worry, Petunia,” he said. “The neighbors won’t notice the extra rooms.”

The extra _what_?

Dumbledore went on. “Kingsley here is just going to pop on upstairs and add a little extension to the back of the house to make room for the baby – “

“And a nurse,” Severus said in a tone that could only be described as ‘sour’.

“Of course,” Dumbledore said placatingly. “We’ve already discussed this. No one expects you to look after the baby by yourself.”

Vernon came stomping down the stairs, setting each foot down with extra force. It was one of the ways he communicated he was upset, and it didn’t usually bode well. Petunia forced a smile to her face. “Vernon,” she said.

Dumbledore turned to face her husband, and Petunia watched Vernon take in the gaggle of wizards, the man brushing past him on the stairs, and the baby. Rage contorted his features. “What’s all this?” he demanded.

“I’m sorry,” Dumbledore said. “I have quite bungled this – “

“I’ll say,” Vernon did, indeed, say.

“ – and I am terribly grieved to be the one to bring you this news, but your sister-in-law….” He paused and turned back to look at Petunia. “Lily has died,” he said. “I’m very sorry.”

Petunia had heard the phrase, ‘hit by a ton of bricks,’ but she’d never experienced it. She did now, and the weight of it forced her backward until she stumbled and nearly fell into one of her stuffed armchairs. On sale, some part of her brain said with banal predictability. She’d bought the matched set on sale.

“Lily can’t be dead,” she said out loud. Not Lily. Not her perfect, infuriating, horrible, magical sister. Not Lily, who’d gotten all the gifts, who’d gone to a special school that hadn’t wanted her – hadn’t wanted _Petunia_, even though she was always careful to brush her teeth and not talk back to teachers. Lily had married wealth. Lily had everything. Death didn’t take people who had everything. “What about James?”

“Dead as well,” Dumbledore said, and his face was creased into lines of grief. “I know it must be a shock – “

“Good riddance,” Vernon said. Petunia found herself nodding. “Freaks, both of them, world’s better off without their kind.”

Dumbledore’s mouth narrowed but, other than that, he gave no indication he’d heard Vernon. “Their son,” he said, and, on cue, a wail came from the bundle in his arms. He passed it off to one of the waiting men who began to bounce the baby. He must have been a father. The crying stopped almost at once, and thank God. Petunia hated the sound of crying babies.

“What about him?” she asked. The _what_ was immediately clear, and she shook her head. “Absolutely not,” she said. “I am not taking in her… her... _brat_. What if he turns out to be just like her?”

“Another freak,” Vernon said. This time his wet mouth moved around the word freak with satisfaction, and Petunia felt a flash of annoyance. He’d never liked her sister, but dirty laundry was best kept at home. He shouldn’t be airing any of that to these people. These other freaks.

“I am sorry to hear you feel that way,” Dumbledore said, “And sorrier still I have somehow failed to communicate that I was not asking. We are adding a few rooms on upstairs so the baby will have a place to stay, and a nurse. Severus has quite kindly volunteered – “

Severus Snape was overcome by a fit of coughing.

“ – to stay here as a guard for the boy, but the blood wards will most likely –.”

“No.” Petunia said the word as firmly as she could.

“Yes.” Dumbledore’s answer was softer but felt more final than her own refusal. “He needs the protection only a home with blood relatives can give him, Petunia, and – “

“We’re not taking that brat into our home,” Vernon said. “Or some filthy – “

Dumbledore waved his hand and Vernon’s mouth grew a zipper and zipped itself shut. “For the next seventeen years, you will provide him a home, Petunia, and as much love as you are capable of giving. Severus will guard the boy from whatever forces may still be after him, but also from you, and he has the full authority of the Ministry to do whatever it takes to keep him safe.”

Vernon reached up and unzipped his mouth. “What if I refuse,” he said. “You can’t just barge in here – “

“He needs the protection of the home of a blood relative,” Dumbledore said. His smile was a terrible thing. “You, Vernon Dursley, are not a blood relative, and I will have no compunction removing you from the equation in order to motivate your wife to open her home lest she lose her son as well.”

All the blood drained from Petunia’s face. She was spared having to answer when ‘Kingsley’ came down the stairs, brushing his hands across the front of his trousers. “All set,” he said, “and connected to the floo system as well.”

“I wish you a good day, Petunia,” Dumbledore said. He bowed his head politely at her. “Severus can take care of the zipper when he finds it convenient to do so. The nurse will arrive via the floo shortly.”

He left, and two of his lackeys followed him, one handing the baby over to Severus on his way out. She stared at the greasy, hideous man standing in her house, her freakish sister’s son in his arms. “I hate you,” she said.

He sneered at her, his lip curling, before he glided up her stairs and disappeared, leaving her and Vernon to stare at one another in furious silence on this horrible, bright, ruinous day.


End file.
